


Summer Apples

by Wanderer



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderer/pseuds/Wanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into Reese's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Apples

**Summer Apples**

By Wanderer

 

Something about his new apartment makes John Reese uneasy.  It’s large and beautiful, but most of all, _Finch gave it to him – for his birthday_.  It’s still hard to believe.  It’s such an amazing gift, and it’s been so long since anyone has given him _anything_ , he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful.  But…

He wanders over to the windows.   Looking out into the light of a gorgeous, sunny early autumn day, he feels something stir at the back of his mind.  A flutter of something familiar, just beyond the edge of memory. 

He brushes it off in favor of trying to figure out what’s worrying him about his apartment.  He tells himself he’s too exposed here.  The windows are too large.  Too revealing.  He thinks of lines of sight, of snipers, and then of remedies.  Dark blinds and dark drapes.  But his uneasiness persists, like a shiver down the back of his neck. 

He’ll be spied here, targeted.  He’ll be _seen_ ; and he can’t have that.

**************************************************************

But it wasn’t always like that.

**************************************************************

Later that night, Reese dreams.

And in his dreams, he goes back before all the battles, before all the blood and death and bitter disillusionment.

Blown like a leaf on the wind, he travels back.  Back to a time before he knew too much, saw too much, felt too much, and then went numb.

John wings home.

**************************************************************

It’s a sunny, mild day at the end of summer.  John is eighteen and standing in an apple orchard in Puyallup, Washington.  Everything is glorious color:  the deep, aching blue of the perfect sky overhead, soft green grass under his feet, bright red and yellow apples in long rows that stretch around him on all sides, seemingly endlessly.  John’s blood hums in his veins.  He’s six feet, two inches tall now and still feeling a bit awkward, like his hands and feet have yet to catch up to the rest of him. 

But he’s happy.  Here under the apple trees, the last breath of summer lingers somehow, warm and green and sweet, scented with the apples in the basket by his feet.  He’s picked apples here every fall since he was ten.  This will be his last harvest, before he goes off to college.  It’s why he came here alone, instead of with his friends.  He wants to savor this quietly. 

He’s promised his parents he’ll do a year at Seattle Pacific College first.  Then he means to join the Army.  Already, he dreams of being a soldier; but so far, those are just dreams.  Bright ones, as hopeful as the future that seems to stretch in front of him, limitless and shining, just waiting to be found beyond the horizon. 

He breathes in a deep lungful of air.  It tastes like hope and promise, and he smiles.  Reaches up and picks an apple and sinks his teeth into it, not bothering to polish it on his shirt first.  The crunch of the bite is loud and satisfying, and the apple is a little tart, a little sweet.  Just the way John likes them.

“You’re supposed to pay for those before you eat them, you know.”  The girl’s voice sounds like his apple tastes; tart and sweet, irresistible. 

John spins around, startled.  He hadn’t heard anyone coming. 

A girl stands just a few feet from him.  She’s just somehow, impossibly there, like a dandelion wafted in on a summer breeze.  She looks that delicate.  She’s slender, almost slight, wearing a light colored dress, a blue paler than the sky.  Her long blonde hair is loose around her shoulders.  Her eyes, brown as fall leaves, catch the light of the day and reflect it back to John in a smile.

The half-eaten apple falls from his hand, unnoticed.

She’s so pretty, all he can do is breathe in and blink at her, marveling.  He smiles back, caught up in her eyes.  Her gaze holds him gently, like she’s cupping his face softly in her hands.  He feels so odd, almost like he’s drunk, or like he’s falling.  Falling into the warmth of her eyes.  Yet at the same time, everything around him seems brighter, more solid, more real.  The day itself suddenly feels like the most perfect summer day he’s ever known.  Or maybe that’s ever been, in the whole history of the world.  His whole body feels like it’s humming.  He feels jazzed, wired, _connected_ \-- to life itself _,_ in a way he’s never been before.

Because she’s there.  With him.

It’s crazy, and what’s even stranger, he knows that but doesn’t question it.  It all feels too good. 

_Who is she?_   Lots of the local kids come here to pick apples, but he’s never seen her before.  He thinks her hair would be soft, if he could touch it.  Would she taste like his apple, if he were brave enough to steal a kiss? 

He looks away, a little embarrassed.  He doesn’t even know her name, and already, all he can think about is how it would feel to kiss her? 

He’s suddenly, acutely aware that he’s been staring at her, eyes wide, for some time.  And that she doesn’t even seem to mind.  “Hi.  I’m John,” he says finally.  “Who are –”

She smiles a little at the question, arching a delicate eyebrow.  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She’s teasing him.  There’s no sting in her words, and the light lingers in her eyes.  She’s graceful, but she’s turning to go and he’s so entranced, he can’t just let her walk away.  He goes after her, moves in front of her.  Not touching her or blocking her way, just wanting her to _see_ him. 

“Yeah.  I really would,” he tells her, smiling.  Half at her, half at himself, for being so obvious.  But he doesn’t even care.

*************************************************************************

John Reese shifts in his sleep.  Then a corner of his mouth turns up in a slight, sad smile.  His lips part in a soundless whisper that might be someone’s name, or nothing at all.

*************************************************************************

She tells him her name, and that she just recently moved there with her family. 

“I’ve lived here all my life,” John says.  But what he’s really thinking is, in all that time, he’s never seen anything as beautiful as she is. 

“The apples are really good here,” he tells her.  “You want to pick some with me?”

“Sure.”

They pick apples and talk for awhile, about everything and nothing.  There are other people around, moving through the orchard, laughing and talking while they harvest their own fruit.  John doesn’t notice any of them, and he can’t seem to stop smiling, either.

Before long, they fill John’s basket. 

Then she says, half smiling, “You dropped your apple, awhile back.” Her eyes tease him again, as if she knows why.  She reaches up and picks another, and holds it out to him.  “Here.  Try this one.”

“Thanks.”

Their fingers brush as John takes it, and a warm, delicious shiver goes through him, unlike anything he’s ever felt before.  He’s had a few girls now, some really pretty ones too, but none of that ever felt half as good as that innocent little touch.  John takes a bite of her apple.  It’s tarter than the one he’d picked, the flavor bursting on his tongue. 

“Mmm, it’s really good,” he murmurs, not sure if he’s talking about the apple anymore.

She smiles, blushing a little, like she knows it, too.  Like she feels what he’s feeling.  Like she _sees_ him, right to the heart of him, like no one ever has.   And it feels so good to be seen like that, so right that John can hardly believe it.

“Here.  You have some.”  John offers the apple back to her impulsively.

“Okay.”  She takes a bite out of the other side.  “Mmm.  It _is_ good.”

Deep inside John, something clicks.  It’s crazy, impossible and he knows it, but it’s like they’re somehow connected now. 

It’s then that he remembers, with a jolt -- he’s _leaving_.  Going away.  Going off to college in a week.

It’s all he’s thought of, for the past year.  College, then joining the Army.  But now it feels all wrong.  Losing this thing he’s just found, this unspoken connection with this girl, would be like the end of the world.

His face falls and he gropes for words, feeling like grey clouds have just massed over his head, blotting out the sun.  “I –”

“What is it?  Is something wrong?”

“Yes.  No.  I mean, it’s just…  I’m leaving.  I’m going to Seattle Pacific College in a week.”

A wide, bright smile blooms unexpectedly on her face.  “Hey, so am I!”

Just like that, the clouds part.  John starts to wonder if he’s dreaming, because his luck has never been this good.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  I’m going to study nursing.”

“I’m taking Engineering.  And R.O.T.C.,” he replies.  Without even realizing it, he’s drawn closer to her, so close.  He’s staring down into her eyes from what feels like inches away, and he still feels like he’s not close enough. 

She smiles shyly up at him.  “So, um… maybe I’ll see you there?”

John grins.  “Absolutely!”  His heart is racing a mile a minute, at the very thought of that.  “Hey, will you give me your number?  So I can call you before you go?  Please.”

“Sure.  Do you have a pen?”

“Yeah.”  He pulls one out of his pocket, but realizes, he doesn’t have any paper.  He smiles at her anyway.  “Okay, go ahead.” 

She blinks at his lack of paper, then just smiles back and tells him her phone number.

John doesn’t mind not having a piece of paper.  He writes everything on his left palm.  She’s already under his skin, in ways he can’t even define.  Inking her name and number on it just feels like part of it, part of the enchanting mystery he’s just found.

_Jessica Strahan, 200-7549._

She laughs, shaking her head at him; but her eyes are shining.  Then she looks down at her watch, and her smile dims.  “Oh, sorry, I’ve gotta go.  I’m meeting a friend, and I’m late.”

John’s heart sinks a little, but then he curls his fingers protectively around the writing on his palm for a second, and it’s okay.  “All right.  See you later, Jessica.  I’ll call you,” he says, meaning it.

She smiles brightly.  “Sure.  I hope so.  See you later, John!”

A final look back over her shoulder, a wave, and she is gone.

************************************************************************

John Reese wakes slowly, blinking into the darkness as he surfaces out of his past.

_And she is gone_.

Tears fill his eyes as he remembers innocence.  A time when he was _seen_ , when he was known right down to his bones, and it wasn’t threatening or dangerous.  It was good, it was fine, it was _perfect_.

Perfect as a golden late summer day in an orchard, when his whole life changed.

Perfect as a day he can never get back.  Sweet and tart and beautiful as those apples they once picked.

As a woman he loved, who he will never see again.

Never…

He remembers what Jennings said to him:  _You’ve never been in love, have you?  Really, truly in love?  Because then you’d know…  It’ll never be over._

In the darkness of his new apartment, alone in his big bed, far from the windows and a million miles from innocence, John Reese weeps.

 

Finis

 

Comments are always welcome.  Loved, really. : )

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had to invent some things here, since I couldn't find any info. anywhere on Jessica's maiden name, or how long John actually knew her. So I used my imagination.


End file.
